


rise with the stars, bright with love

by dotdotmoon



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff without Plot, Holding Hands, Late at Night, M/M, Reading, Seaside, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23067634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dotdotmoon/pseuds/dotdotmoon
Summary: Jongin discovers a pair of lace gloves late at night, and Sehun holds his hands.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Oh Sehun
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	rise with the stars, bright with love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dreamy_Ideal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamy_Ideal/gifts).



> i predicted ficdom would take less than a day to provide smut based on [these pictures](https://twitter.com/weareoneEXO/status/1235037315107414016)... my friend said she wanted tender handholding instead.
> 
> the prompt was "sekai, 3am, crafts"
> 
> (if you like background sounds while reading, try [this](https://freesound.org/people/rizzin/sounds/400791/))

Jongin jolts up when the book he's been reading drops onto his face. The other side of the bed is still empty. He considers sending a text, but his phone is nowhere to be seen and he doesn't want to open the bedroom door, in case the dog is still lurking. Jongin places the book face-down on his pillow, and stretches until he's yawning. Kyungsoo would scold him if he knew, although it's Jongin's book. Jongin can't think of a more evident declaration of love than letting his books accumulate traces of use; the more he likes a book, the more read it looks. His favourites look digested, brim with notes in the margins, little doodles where he paused reading to think, wavy page corners where he turned them with tear-wet fingers, prints of his soul all throughout.

He wanders to the window, pulls the curtain aside and opens it wide, sticks his upper body out, hands on the sill.

It feels like falling into the night. He doesn't see anything, not even the moon hanging cloud-dim and lazy in the sky, until he makes an effort to squint his eyes awake. It must be past 2AM and well before 5AM; the streetlights off and giving room to a bright darkness, the sound of sea and crickets a meadow of its own. He lets himself sink some more, until he notices his eyes closing again and pulls away, back into the room.

He can't hear Sehun with the door closed, working at their kitchen table that's entirely his at night until the first sunray claims it as theirs, murmuring to himself like the constant flood of words keeps him anchored, rooted, alive.

Jongin traces the rough wood of the bedpost with a hand, remembers the small backpack stowed away in a drawer. It's not much bigger than a purse, blue leather smoothened by age, with a red button, red tassels, the dull Pride badge that made him want to buy it, like he was reaching for some of his own history. He hasn't unzipped it yet, content with looking at it for now. The valuables had been removed, he was informed at the baggage auction he'd seen a poster for on the walk home, but he hadn't minded paying the price of take-out for two for it anyway, hadn't expected to find treasure.

The drawer is heavy, squeaks loudly when Jongin pulls on the handle. He'll try to remember to buy a candle to fix it soon, he thinks as he takes out the small backpack by a strap. He sits down on the bed to place it into his lap before he carefully peels the zipper back, like it's a fruit ripe with the threat of juice spilling everywhere when the skin is broken.

The inside is dark with shadow, and Jongin shifts closer to the reading lamp, unwilling to stick a hand inside without seeing.  
There's the corner of a small book peeking out, a collection of poems, he sees when he pulls it out, the grime of library books familiar under his fingertips, and a small black bundle. It's so light he first mistakes it for a piece of unsewn fabric, then a pair of socks, lace socks, soft and tender as lace has never been to his touch before.  
Jongin tucks the book back into the backpack and sets it aside to explore later, turns the fabric in his hands until it falls apart into twin pieces. The beige trim makes him think of thigh-highs, but they're gloves, long, delicate, the pattern undistinguishable even against light.

He's pulled one on before he can ponder it, finds it in his size although the trim is a little too snug around his upper arm. The pattern is floral against his skin, and he laughs quietly when he notices his arm hair sticking through. It makes him feel extravagant in the best way, as he turns his arm and looks closely. Even lace won't belie his clumsiness, he knows, but he wants the smidgen of elegance, pulls on the other one as well, struggling a little with how strange his gloved hand feels.

The bedroom door opens just as he's lain back, is marveling at his own hands covered in black lace. They do look elegant, not like the paws or foreflippers he's usually told he has, but he isn't sure he's just projecting snatched up imagery.

"Still up?" Sehun asks before he shuts the door and turns to face Jongin, then goes still with surprise. "Those are new."

"The backpack," Jongin says absently. He's trying to figure out how much he likes them, feels them snagging on the dry skin of his elbows, feels his bloodflow constricted by the band at the top.

Sehun sits down on Jongin's side of the bed, half his butt on Jongin's leg like he's Vivi, and grasps for one of his arms. Jongin tucks the other to his bare chest, watches one of Sehun's hands trace his skin through the fabric as he holds onto Jongin's gloved hand delicately, warm lace against warm skin. He pushes fingers under the trim when he reaches Jongin's upper arm, lets it snap back with some force.

It doesn't hurt but Jongin whines by force of habit, and Sehun smiles at him with such unrestricted fondness he feels like he's floating off the bed.

"Missed you," Jongin says against Sehun's mouth when he bends to kiss him, climbs onto him and untangles their hands to hold both of Jongin's now, fingers interlaced and resting on Jongin's chest.

Sehun's thumbs stroke at the lace. "It's taking longer than I thought," he says and sits back.

"The sea glass wind chime?"

Sehun hums, dips to kiss Jongin again. "Let's go to the beach and collect more tomorrow, I want to make one with you."

Jongin frowns up at him. "You think that's a good idea?" He likes their walks by the sea, the rocky beach underneath their feet, climbing boulders to sit on in the sun as the water splashes up against their feet, cooling and like a creature always reaching for them.

"Anyone can do this. It's just glueing fishing line to sea glass, no big deal," Sehun tries to assure him. Jongin can already see himself glueing his fingers together and he squeezes Sehun's hands reflexively. Sehun must have thought of this too as he relents. "I've seen another idea, with very small pieces, one per string, more like raindrops lined up?"

Jongin trusts Sehun to pick the right project for them, so he nods, rises for another kiss, whining again when Sehun tilts his head to look at him like he doesn't know what he wants and Jongin has to flop back onto the bed, stomach hurting with the strain of holding himself up.

"Go to sleep," Sehun says between his giggles and Jongin's noises of complaint, "I'll be up until sunrise."

"Help me take them off?" Jongin asks. He fears he's going to rip the gloves if he so much as thinks about trying himself, and he feels so tired all of a sudden he's not sure he wouldn't fall asleep with them on and wake up with numb arms.

Sehun does without protest, pulls gently with one hand as he holds Jongin's wrist, trails kisses down his entire arm before he pulls the glove off his hand, too.

Jongin doesn't have to pull out his pout for Sehun to give him a little more, stay a little longer. He watches him fold the gloves into a small bundle not unlike earlier, keeps his hands on his chest as Sehun reaches over him to drop them onto the windowsill. He grasps for Sehun, cups one of his hands between his, his own hands feeling strangely bare now, unfamiliar, someone else's, feels Sehun's touch mark them as his own again where he cups Jongin's in turn.

"Did you notice they're Gucci? You might want to sell these," he tells Jongin.

"I made rent," is all Jongin can get his mouth to say. His mind is drifting again, a pleasant mix of sleep-drowsiness and affection, and he simply hums when Sehun talks to him, indiscernable sweet things, he likes to imagine.

Jongin doesn't know how Sehun manages to wrestle a blanket in between them, still holds onto his hand firmly, only lets go when he thinks he hears a promise of more. There will be more with Sehun for a long time, he thinks, sinking into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> idk a first thing about how sehun likes to spend his leisure time? but sea glass is one of the most beautiful things in this world...
> 
> thank you for reading, please let me know how it made you feel!!  
> comments keep me writing.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/fakeclover) | [cc](http://curiouscat.me/fakeclover) | [listography](https://listography.com/fakeclover)


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